Good Will
by HeiHeiTstesetyun
Summary: All is not well in the UK, and talk of Scottish secession is on the rise. In an effort to display good will, Arthur and Eileen are on a vacation together. This does not bode well with either. NON-RELATED EnglandXFem!Scotland. Enjoy! :D
1. Flathead

Good Will

Pairing: EnglandXFem!Scotland. There may be other pairings on the side, but the story will be centered around Arthur and Eileen. :)

Rating: K+ should cover it. Maybe teen? It'll be pretty PG.

Summary: All is not well in the United Kingdom, and talk of Scottish secession is on the rise. In an effort to display good will, Minister Salmond and Queen Elizabeth decide to send Arthur and Eileen on a vacation to Aruba together. This does not bode well with either. EnglandXFem!Scotland.

…

"Eileen!" First Minister Salmond greeted me with a warm smile, extending his hand for me to shake as I entered his office. I glanced about the room, chuckling at the Star Trek posters. A framed picture of his wife graced his desk, along with photographs of various friends and family members. Salmond agreed well with me- despite his professionalism, he was a down-to-earth man.

"Mornin', Alex. How are ye?"

"Just fine, thanks. And ye?"

"Quite content. So, wha's the news?"

He grinned, though his eyes seemed hesitant. I felt anxious to hear what he would tell me.

"I'm sendin' ye on holiday."

"Holiday!" I clapped my hands together, beaming. "Ye mean it? Oh, how exciting! Where will I go? I ha'en't traveled for pleasure in years."

"Well, Eileen, ye don't want to get so excited yet. Ye will have to negotiate with a fellow nation- one a yer own, I mean- on the trip. It won't be formal-like, though. Ye two will simply share a villa an' spend a bit a time together. But I wouldn't be worried. Ye get to stay with a _man_."

I chuckled, feeling disarmed. This is what he was worried about? I could handle a diplomacy-date.

"Tell me where I'll go!" I was nearly jumping from excitement- I couldn't wait for a vacation.

"His boss an' I have decided to send the both of ye to Aruba."

"Aruba!" Now I really _was_ shaking, thrilled by the thought that I'd soon have an island getaway. "Yet ye won't tell me who the lad is, hm?"

"I ought to give ye a fair warning. Eileen, I had a meeting with the Queen last week, as ye know."

My face fell. Oh, lord, not him, not him! Anybody but _him_!

"Alex," I felt breathless, and my thoughts began to swim, "Please tell me I'm just going on vacation with Wales. Tha's why the Queen met ye, right? I'm travellin' with Wales?"

Salmond shook his head sadly. "Eileen, I don't know what to tell ye. I'm very sorry. Scotland and England just haven't gotten on well lately, and it would be good for both nations if ye two spent seven days together without rippin' the other's head off."

"I can't make any promises when I'm around that-"

"_Please_, Eileen." My boss sighed, looking down. "I know this isn't ideal, but I'll make ye a bargain. I'll give ye a _real_ vacation, anywhere ye like, if ye do this for me. Two weeks off from work, whenever ye want. How does that sound?"

"It sounds like fair compensation," I replied honestly. "I can hardly stand to be in the same room with the man. I mean, why are we trying to get on with England, anyhow? So we can be an unofficial colony, used for our wealth? We both know Scotland wants out of the UK."

"It's not that simple." He frowned. "It never does good to make enemies with England."

"Don't I know it."

"Ye two have a rough past, I know. Most divorced women only spend a lifetime avoiding their ex-husbands. You, unfortunately, don't have that luxury."

"For the record, a Union of Parliaments is hardly a marriage."

Salmond glanced at me as though he doubted the truth of what I'd said. Honestly, so did I.

"Yes, well…I'd really appreciate it if ye did this. For Scotland. God knows how easily misunderstandings can explode into war now-a-days, and we don't want to face an English belligerent, should we choose to leave the UK. The division between North and South Ireland makes it painfully clear that we need to be as diplomatic as possible."

"And Arthur agreed to this? I doubt he wants to see my face for a week."

"He'll just have to."

Resigned, I agreed to the arrangement. One week, that was it. I'd endured far worse- after all, I once lived with the lout.

…

"Elizabeth, with all due respect, you can't expect me to spend a week with that woman!" I sputtered, my face heating. Eileen Fitzhugh was a true wild-card; brilliant yet slightly mad. After all, she listened to the Fratellis and Franz Ferdinand, for God's sake. That I managed to be in the same room with the red-locked she-devil most likely was the reason that I had frequent stress-dreams before United Kingdom Summit meetings. Imagine the kind of nightmares I'd have were I to go on holiday with her!

"Arthur," my Queen's expression was stoic, as always. Though I usually appreciated her impassive nature, I wished that she'd show some sympathy for my plight, "What happened with you and your ex-wife was long ago. Scotland is a valuable ally to England. We need to keep them from seceding from the United Kingdom. You know this. If the Scottish public hears that you and Eileen spend time together, they might just soften. And our people will surely be pleased with the sense of security. Also, imagine the Scots living here. It will make them feel more welcome."

"The Union of Parliament's wasn't a marriage," I protested, "but I agree that this would be for the best. Did Eileen agree to this?"

"I just spoke with First Minister Salmond. He loves the idea, but Eileen, as you can expect, is not so fond of it. She confers with it, however. You will meet her at the GIA Friday morning. There, you two will board a flight to Oranjestad. We have a Royal jet secured for the both of you so that you won't be disturbed while travelling."

"Believe me, I would cherish any distraction."

Her Majesty frowned at me, disapproving of my comment. "Be kind to her, Arthur. I'm on good terms with the woman- she is merely sensitive. If you show her good will, she will soften."

"She's left her callouses untreated for centuries." Though annoyed with my fate, I smiled at Elizabeth. She knew as well as I how stubborn Eileen was.

A thin smile was my response. "Then you will start on them."

…

A/N: Hi, all! I'm very excited to start on this. I usually write yaoi, but I think it'll be fun to explore Eileen and Arthur's relationship. I also hope my story doesn't appear biased toward either Scotland or England as nations themselves. My mom is mainly Scottish and English (I'm related to Mary, Queen of the Scots- the crazy one that tried to assassinate Queen Elizabeth I-, apparently. 0_o), and so I identify with both nationalities. However, I have to say that after considering the issue of Scottish, I think that Scotland would be better off independent.

If you've enjoyed this, please leave a review. :) The encouragement will help me make time to write more. :D Thanks for reading!


	2. Chelsea Dagger

Friday morning came sooner than I'd have liked it to. Once arranging for my cousin, Edie, to take care of Glasga (my lovable, fat Scottish fold) over the course of my holiday, I lugged my suitcase out the door and into a cab. During the hour-long ride from Edinburgh to Glasgow International Airport, I listened to music, trying to console myself that all would be okay, and that Arthur's presence wouldn't give me a panic attack, hives, or an STD. I suppose I could have reflected upon the happy times that he and I had once shared, but those embarrassed me too much to think about. I cringed at the thought of his kiss and blushed at the notion that I had once loved him. _Foolish._

Arthur waited for me at the other side of a chain-link, barbed-wire fence. The gate yielded to me once I entered a code, and I walked past it with luggage in tow.

"Hello, Eileen," he greeted, forcing himself to smile. It looked unnatural- his eyes squinted as though he were looking into bright sunlight. Still, I appreciated the effort and extended my hand. Proper. Business-like. I could make this trip work.

"Hello, Arthur," I smiled as well. "I hope ye've been well."

"Well, as always. And you?"

"I can't complain."

We stood in silence for a moment before he cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should board."

"Oh, right." I chuckled nervously. This didn't have to be so bad, did it? We could overlook our past… And I could always ditch him and play beach volleyball once we got to Aruba.

…

"Champagne?" An attendant greeted Arthur and me with a large bottle of Kristal.

"Yes, thank you."

"I'd love some!"

She smiled and filled two flutes for us, setting the bottle in a bucket of ice on our built-in table. Arthur grinned as he watched miniscule bubbles stream from the base of the flute and erupt on the surface of the drink. The man loved his booze.

"Cheers." He held up his glass, and I tapped it with mine.

"To happiness." I toasted, taking a sip of the beverage.

"To happiness," he agreed, "and the prosperity of the United Kingdom."

I nearly spit out the Kristal. Was his comment pointed? I reminded myself not to be sensitive- Scotland was still part of the UK, after all, so he technically wished for my prosperity as well.

"Yes…"

He gulped his champagne, mostly likely in an attempt to steady his nerves. I took another sip simply to be polite. I wasn't much for champagne- I preferred a good, dark ale.

"You look different, Eileen. You've let your hair grow longer, haven't you?"

"Yeah." I smiled, pleased that someone noticed. "Now that I've stopped abusin' it with the flat-iron, that is."

He nodded, unsure of what to say. I ought to have asked him about himself, but I was tied for words, as well. The both of us took another sip (in his case, a gulp) from the flutes.

…

"So _then_ I told Ireland where he could shove his Celtic Tiger!...An' then he punched me. Ass." Arthur swayed in his seat and chuckled as he recounted the tale, obviously inebriated.

I groaned. I'd spent three hours with Kirkland, and he was _already_ drunk. Still, something struck me as strange. He'd only had one drink, and his tolerance for alcohol was normally a lot better.

Then, it clicked.

"Did ye take any medicine before the flight, Arthur?"

He smiled, nodding. I cradled my forehead in my hands.

"What did ye take?"

"Prozac!"

Oh, Lord. "Ye aren't s'posed to drink with that."

For a moment, his face showed concern, but he quickly went back to laughing. "Whoops! Say, 'Leen, you should have another drink, too! Ya look all serious."

"That's because I am serious. This is a business trip, and I'm not going to perpetuate a negative Scottish stereotype on it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, you're already a ginger."

Despite feeling an overwhelming urge to chuckle (I loved a good ginger joke), I remained impassive. "C'mon, I'll get some food in ye before ya pass out…"

…

Eileen and I both stepped off the plane in a sour mood, neither of us talking to one-another as we rolled our luggage to the taxi-cab that waited just outside. Still, we had to be civil in front of others, and we chatted with the friendly driver, a native Aruban who was more than eager to talk about his homeland with us. Outside, the sky was shrouded in a violet fog, and the stars seemed to have endlessly populated it.

Over the course of fifteen minutes, I tried not to wince as my head throbbed uncomfortably. I hated getting hangovers- they always made me feel crabby. I might not have the most pleasant demeanor, but I certainly wasn't getting off on the best foot with Eileen with this hangover, either.

Once we reached the Marriott, we tipped the driver, Miguel, and headed into the lobby. The room we'd entered was bright and elegant, with gold-painted walls and sparkling chandeliers. Eileen walked to the concierge desk, intent on checking us in, while I rested in one of the red-velvet chairs. It was quite comfy, and I would have much preferred to sleep in it instead of in a room with Eileen. I blushed at the notion- what if someone thought that she and I were a _couple_? It was pure ridicule that the Queen made me go in this trip…

"Come on," Eileen stated rather flatly as she handed me a white key-card, the lights from the chandelier reflecting off of it. I followed her into an elevator, and she pressed the fourth button on the wall. Once we'd reached our floor, we hastened to our room, still not speaking a word to one-another. To be fair, I could understand why Eileen was upset that I'd gotten drunk, but was it my fault that I'd forgotten about my Prozac before taking a drink? She was the one that had made me so anxious in the first place, after all…

Once inside the room, I took to the kitchenette and washed down two Advil pills with a bit of water from the sink. Eileen, meanwhile, entered one of the doors leading away from the small living room furnished with wooden stools. She was most likely searching for a bedroom.

I opened one of the other doors, finding a bathroom. I took my toiletries case out of my duffel and set them on the left side of the sink, smirking at the bit of irony. Eileen had always set her perfumes, hair-pins, and such at the left of the vanity when we were married. Deciding to be kind, I moved my belongings over to the right.

I sighed to myself as I saw my reflection. How would I last a week with her? While in the restroom, I brushed my teeth and put on my night clothes, wanting to evade the embarrassment of Eileen walking in on me dressing. Once finished, I flicked off the lights and left with luggage in tow to search for my own room.

Eileen was waiting for me outside the door, he arms folded.

"Well, we're rather unlucky."

My throat tightened. "What do you mean?" I was afraid I already knew the answer.

"Our bosses were so kind to set us up in a room with one bedroom."

I frowned, my face heating with embarrassment. "You can't be serious."

"Oh," she laughed bitterly, "It gets better. I've checked the livin' room- there's not so much as a bench in there, and the stools would be rather painful to roll off of."

"So you mean to tell me that we're stuck in this hotel with one bed."

"Afraid so. I don't mind if ye sleep in it, too, but I'm certainly not spendin' my vacation restin' on the floor."

"The floor is fine for me, so long as there's blankets."

"Ah, now tha's the problem. I could give ye some from the bed, I suppose. I don't think ye should sleep on the floor if ye have a hangover, though."

She did have a point. I sighed. "I'll take the bed, as well. The floor would be bad for my back, anyway."

"Still havin' troubles with it?"

I frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "Never mind, just curious." Eileen shook her crimson waves out of their bun before settling under the covers. She edged over to the far left end of the bed and flicked off her lamp. "Good night."

I tucked myself in on the other side. "Good night, Eil-" I caught myself. Why had I used her nickname? It must have been the familiarity of the situation, of falling asleep together. "-een."

I quickly turned off my light, as well, so that I wouldn't have to see her face soured by distaste.

Surprisingly enough, when my curiosity got the best of me and I glanced over, she only appeared to be sad.


	3. For the Girl

I rose early the next morning, finding three texts on my phone- all from my brother, Ian.

"Eil, are ye okay? I hear ye're stuck with Limey. That's too bad. :("

"Eil? Ye'll be okay, right?"

"Message me back when ye get these."

I smiled to myself while texting him back- it was nice to know that someone cared. "Don't worry, Ian- I'll be fine. :) He's being civil."

Within a minute, my phone flashed, alerting me of a new text from Ian. "Well, I'm glad ye're the responsible one. I couldn't deal with him!"

A pang of reminiscence took to me. My brother and I had both been trained to be national representatives when we were younger, but only one of us could be the diplomat. He didn't seem to mind, though- especially since I had to deal with some less-than-savory folk in my line of work.

Arthur sighed in his sleep, smiling and hugging a pillow to his chest. At least he seemed happy. He was always pleasant when he had a good mood about him.

I decided that I would have breakfast outside- I was less than a mile away from a café that served cherry-chocolate coffee cake, and some sugar would revive my spirits. However, just as I slipped out of my night-gown and began to put on a dress (a blue, silk frock with a floral pattern)…

"Ah!" Arthur cried, shielding his eyes and turning away. "A little modesty, please."

I waved away his comment. "I thought ye were asleep." I figured it would be in poor taste to remind him that it was nothing he hadn't seen before. "Anyhow, I'm goin' to get breakfast."

"By yourself?"

"That was the plan."

"I need to go with you. You know that the paparazzi will be following us like hounds."

"Paparazzi? You mean a couple of starvin' Uni kids, that's all."

He frowned as he rose from bed and turned to a mirror on the wall to comb his hair. "Well, all the same, we ought to stay together. It wouldn't look good if-"

"Scotland and England weren't unified?"

He nodded, either not detecting my sarcasm or overtly ignoring it. "Precisely."

I decided not to be difficult, understanding that I had to abide by my boss' orders. "Well, since ye have to stick with me, I've gotta let ye know that I have a lot planned, prospectively, for this trip."

"Such as?"

"Parasailin', a day cruise on that 'pirate ship' out there, jet-skiin', shoppin'…"

"Parasailing?"

I grinned a bit deviously. "Yes, of course. And you'll be goin' with me?"

He swallowed thickly. "Of course I will. I had nothing planned, really, so -aside from the shopping- this should all be fun."

"Glad ye think so."

"-but I also want to play volleyball, hike, ride horses, and go to a few night clubs."

"I've no complaints with that."

"Good. So, where will we have breakfast?"

"How does coffee cake sound?"

He smiled faintly. Arthur had quite the sweet-tooth. "Delicious."

"Then follow me."

…

After walking in the humid morning air, Eileen and I decided to eat indoors. Both of us were red in the face and damp with sweat once we reached the shop, so we drank the water offered us at once.

We sat at a small table in the corner of the store, drumming our fingers quietly and keeping mum. Eileen studied my face for a moment as I pretended to glance out the window at some potted plants. I waited for her to turn away.

A waitress came to take our order, a bright smile gracing her sun-kissed face. Eileen and I both opted for a cherry-chocolate cake, which was brought to us shortly, along with some fresh fruit. Eileen picked the pastry apart with her fingers while I dug in with my fork.

"Mm." Wow, it really _was _delicious.

Eileen smiled congenially. "It's good, isn't it?"

I did as well. I loved sweets. "Good is an understatement."

She chuckled to herself, sounding genuinely pleased. Her eyes closed, and her front teeth rested over her lips as she laughed. Eileen looked ridiculous, but the sight of her happiness made me chuckle a bit, as well. She could be infectious.

"This vacation might just be fun. We may not agree in politics, but outside of them, ye're an okay guy."

Her words surprised me. I had not expected Eileen to be conciliatory to me on this trip. Not only were we on a tense front with politics, but our history was equally difficult. "Well, I'm glad you think so. I'm having a good time so far."

She smiled and took another bite of her cake. "Mm, Francis was right. This is really good. I think there's drugs in it."

I nearly spit out my water laughing, partly from astonishment. How could she be so candid? Still, I supposed that I had to be kind to her, and joked back in response.

"I should hope not- I don't want anything else on my record this close to Venezuela!"

…

"What is this?" Arthur asked as I handed him a blended drink.

"It's good, don't worry. It's called a 'mudslide,' and it's basically a chocolate shake with liqueur."

He smiled wryly. "I'm going to get chubby on this trip, I see."

"Maintaining homeostasis in 90 percent humidity is a work-out enough. I think we're covered." I leaned back in my woven chair, adjusting my straw hat to shield my eyes from the sun.

He leaned back in his chair as well, his dark sunglasses covering his fair green eyes. "Do you want to play volleyball in a bit?"

"After I finish my drink, sure. We still have plenty of time. It's not yet four, and the Queen arranged for us to dine on the other side of town at seven."

The two of us sipped, enjoying the sun and shade. The rosy bloom of a sunburn already inched its way out from the center of Arthur's back, and I held up a canister of spray-on block.

"Need some more?"

Arthur glanced at his reddening stomach. "Yes…that would be great, thank you."

I spritzed him with the 60-proof sunscreen, rubbing in the uneven spots with my hands. He tensed up beneath my touch but quickly relaxed into it. It surprised me that he would be so calm while I practically gave him a back rub.

"Do you need some, as well?"

"I should be fine. My skin is still a bit more tan than yers…well, except for my face. But I'm wearing a hat and some face-cream, so I should be fine." My straw gurgled, signaling that I'd finished off my drink. "Volleyball, now?"

Arthur grinned. "How about we make this game worth something?"

I smirked, placing my hand on my hip (which was wholly covered by a swimsuit and a sarong). "I'm listenin'."

"If I win, then you must agree to talk with me about the status of the Union- your opinions, as well- some time during this trip."

I frowned, my mood instantly souring. So his kindness _was_ a ploy. He simply wanted an agreement from me!

"Ye're pushing yer luck, Arthur."

He noticed my frown and tried to qualify his request, blushing. "I-…um, I really didn't mean to disturb you. I simply wanted to know your thoughts."

"This is a diplomatic outing, not a political one. My opinions on the Union are _not_ ones ye want to hear, but they're not important. The opinion of Scotland rests on its people, not on me. I simply think in Scotland's best interest."

"And what about the United Kingdom?" He asked, appearing both curious and insulted.

"That is a concern as well," I chose my words carefully, "albeit a secondary one. Just as I'm sure England is your primary priority."

"That contradicts what you've just said." Arthur sighed, "I'd really appreciate a bit of honesty, Eileen."

"Likewise, I would appreciate some diplomacy. This is neither the time nor the place to get into this. Believe me, I have _much_ more I'd like to say on this issue. I'm merely restraining myself for the benefit of us both."

His brows furrowed and his tone sharpened. "Forget I said anything,  
then."

I bit my tongue, knowing nothing good would come of any further protest.  
"I'm goin' for a walk." My eyes burned, challenging him to invite  
himself along.  
"I'm quite tired. I'll have a nap."  
I nodded and watched him leave, my face flushed from the confrontation. Should I have gotten so upset? Probably not, but I had  
a right to be angry. What audacity he had, to bring the issue up as if  
it were a sport!

Arthur's POV  
Eileen's reaction frustrated me. Did she really think she could evade  
this discussion? Why else would the two of us have been pitted  
together on "holiday?" Her obstinance was obnoxious, and I sighed with  
relief at the fact that I was no longer connected to that woman in  
anything but politics.

I found a hammock by the shore and settled into it. A warm breeze  
mussed my hair, and I surrendered to the siren call of a nice rest...

A half-hour or so later, I rose, feeling much better than I had  
before. An inkling of guilt settled in the pit of my stomach, however,  
and I decided it would only be fair to apologize to Eileen.

I ruminated on the situation as I watched turqoise waves flow over the hot powder sand. To be fair, Eileen herself had no obligation to  
support the union. What did she benefit from it, personally or  
politically? She was right- she simply was prioritizing her nation,  
first, as she well ought to do. She had a right not to agree with the  
union, as she didn't directly influence her nation's politics and she  
was moderate enough to head Salmond's request. If anything, I wondered  
if I could be temperate in the same situation.

It was true- Scotland's oil and strong economy were great boons to the rest of the Union. I couldn't blame Eileen for choosing a stance, even  
if I didn't agree with it.

I sought for Eileen along the shore. It didn't take me long to spot  
her- she was busily chatting with a few tourists. Once done, she waved  
at them as they walked away and spent a moment glancing out over the  
gold-tinted waves. I couldn't help but think that she looked  
strangely, perfectly serene- a real daughter of the sea.

I cleared my throat to catch her attention after a moment passed and I realized that I'd been staring. She looked over at me, her eyes nearly  
glaring but softened by some inexplicable thing that I couldn't begin  
to comprehend.

"Yes?" She asked, her manner weary rather than menacing.

"I-" I took a minute to collect my thoughts, at once feeling sorry for her and ashamed of my own actions. I felt remorseful knowing that my  
actions caused Eileen's frown, which pulled her thin lips down toward  
her broad jaw.

"I really shouldn't have brought up the Union, and I do understand why you're against it. I'm sorry."

Eileen's eyes softened further, and she sighed before smiling  
mercifully. "I appreciate that, and feel I also reacted strongly."

"You were justified. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course."

Eileen's P.O.V.

"We'd best get dressed if we wanna make the reservation."

"Oh- yes." He studied my features for a moment longer, seeming to  
concentrate on something or nothing at all. My eyes widened, and he  
turned away.

Once back in our room, I showered in the left wing's bathroom while  
Arthur took the right. It was strange hoe he remembered my  
idiosyncracy still then-I liked to use and do things on the left  
whenever possible. It had become a habit to me- one I didn't even  
think about- but it was nice that he aided me in it.

Once finished with my shower, I slathered Moroccan Oil on my dry ends  
to smooth out the friz and curled my golden eyelashes with a wand of  
violet mascara. After that, I zipped into white jeans and pulled a  
flowing peach top above them.

I started, my eyes wide and my jaw open as I looked at myself in the  
mirror. Why was I dressing up for /Arthur/ of all people?


End file.
